


The fragments of the dark matter

by SonataNocturne



Category: Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Angst, Blood, Choking, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Crying, Feels, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Hurt No Comfort, Kinktober 2019, Knifeplay, Light Sadism, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Aftercare, Scars, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20945741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonataNocturne/pseuds/SonataNocturne
Summary: Jack has his way of dealing with Kellin's mind. And that's how it's supposed to be.





	The fragments of the dark matter

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny disclaimer- as it says in the tags it's not safe or sane. Also no aftercare, but if you have read my stuff you can already see why there is no such. So yes, angsty. Enjoy, or so.

\-------------

As Kellin’s back hits the wall he knows it’s serious. Even more than before. The unmistaken shadow in Jack’s eyes is darker today. It’s menacing and Kellin has to turn his gaze away. He knows damn too well where it is going, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t surprised when the fingers dive into his strands. Jack pulls until he gives in with a gasp. He shivers as the other doesn’t even say anything. Just stares blankly back into his eyes.

He knows too well. He knows in the pit of his stomach where it is going. Then the hand releases his hair and Jack takes a step back. He must read Kellin's mind as he just stares, waiting for him to make the next move. Not letting Kellin to control what happens, but the opposite. Jack follows him like a prey stalking and Kellin knows that in a second he might be shoved on to the floor. If that's what Jack would decide today.

But it was just the start. The hallway is dark and he can only see the dim light coming from the crack of the bedroom door. He walks forward slowly, knowing he shouldn't stop now. Shouldn't even be thinking it. The foot steps behind him are clear, but just as slow as his. As they reach the room he stays still for a tiny moment, thinking what should he do next. But Jack's hard hand is on his neck gesturing him further with a push, and he obeys not saying a word.

Kellin sits on the edge of the bed staring at his bare feet. He doesn’t even need to look to know that Jack is following him. As the door shuts close he flinches slightly, and next Jack is already standing in front of him. He holds his breath, waiting for what will happen next. The air always seemed to get thinner the further they got. Jack’s hand grabs his shirt, balling the fabric. Hard. Until it’s stretched so tight that the collar digs into his neck.

“My favourite shirt”, he mumbles, knowing it’s probably ruined now.

Jack yanks it harshly and Kellin hears a ripping noise. _Now_ it was ruined.

“Do I care?”

Kellin doesn’t answer. He just listens to the sound, trying not to cringe.

Jack lets out a sigh.

“The real question is do you? Really.”

And here they are again. He tilts his head and wonders how long it will last this time.

As the palm collides with his cheek Kellin flinches. The skin tingles and the delicious twinge inside his stomach tells how much he had missed it.

“You know this is played my way. So speak while you still can”, Jack stoops lower, whispering the words into Kellin’s ear.

Something sparks inside Kellin and he huffs, “I fucking hate you.”

“So you say. And still you are sitting there. Utterly compliant. Or did you actually give up already?” Jack’s voice is deep and Kellin shivers.

“No”, Kellin swallows.

Jack pulls now upwards from the shirt, gesturing that Kellin should stand up. And he does, but then stays still, waiting. The hand releases his shirt trailing then down and under it. The fingers stroke the scars on his side and Kellin knows Jack’s eyes are closed as he focuses to the feeling. He is smiling. The moment is short-lived and next the shirt is pulled over his head and dropped onto the floor. He stays still, as the hands start to unbutton his jeans now. And he tries to breathe. So hard he tries to draw the oxygen in his lungs, but it _burns_.

The jeans get pulled down and off, and Jack squeezes his ass. He almost moans. Just barely able to contain himself he drops his gaze again as Jack takes a step back and peels of his own shirt. In the corner of his eye Kellin sees how it’s dropped onto the same pile with his clothes. Then the hand is on his hair again and he is forced onto the bed. He knows this part way too well and as he backs away the hand tangled in his hair he stares at Jack whose face is deadpan. Soon he is pushed down laying on the bed and somehow his mind is already filled with the thoughts he doesn't want.

“I have a feeling this is going to be heavy night for you”, Jack mumbles as he squirms.

Kellin blinks and nods slowly, his throat closing in. And there is the look he has waited. The tiny flicker in Jack’s eyes makes him want to scream. It disappears so fast that he could have been mistaken, but he knows the other too well. And with every fiber of his being he hates himself because he knows what’s coming next and how badly he wants it.

"Where do you want to start?"

Jack cages him with his body and his rough fingers thread through Kellin's hair to pulling his head to its side. Kellin swallows and yields in with a low cry. He knows it isn't a real question. Jack is just prompting him. Forcing him to feel _everything_. The dismay is already boiling in his blood.

"Not talking still? Where's the anger now?" Jack mumbles in his ear and watches as his skin stretches taut in the neck.

Jack’s other hand trails down his chest and further to his ribs, but only when the fingers catch the scars he gasps. The fingers are gentle. Only softly tracing over the straight lines, stopping for a second before continuing to the next one. Kellin stares at the serious eyes that look him, but through him. Jack is humming inwardly, and the tiny hairs in the back of his neck prickle.

“Pretty”, Jack mumbles, knowing exactly what it does to Kellin.

The other lets out a tiny whine and rubs his head against the palm that is resting in his hair. Jack sighs and shakes his head slowly. The way Kellin always begged him to continue, whether it was verbal or non-verbal, turned him on. It never took a lot for Kellin to reach the certain state, but he was always interested to see _what_ it was that time.

And so he rewards the other with a tug and he could swear it has already started. Kellin moans and yields in, but as the burn in his scalp doesn’t end like normally his eyes flash open. Jack isn’t even smirking. He isn’t smirking and that’s how it’s supposed to be. Kellin chews his lip waiting. Knowing there is more and Jack is testing out his state of mind. Or maybe he doesn’t even care. Which was absolutely fine for him too.

Kellin heart is beating fast and he is sure Jack can feel it. The other shifts, releasing the hair finally and he lets out a relieved gasp. He wants to ask, but part of him doesn’t want to know.

Jack sits up and fishes out the knife from his pocket. He stares as Jack flicks it open, revealing the blade. Shiny, sharp pocketknife and Kellin’s breath hitches.

“Are you hesitating?”

The other swallows thickly and leans back, trying to be still. He isn’t hesitating. Not in the way Jack is meaning it. He is terrified of the outcome. What darkness is Jack able to draw out this time. Some would say it’s catharsis, but to him it’s necessary. Inevitable. And his own personal hell, that he can touch and breathe.

And he knows Jack still isn’t _asking_. The way he stares back at him twinges somewhere deep inside him. Tiny croak leaves his throat as the other shifts closer. But he is so scared. It’s all coming in waves and he jumps up, trying to get away. But Jack is fast, the hand already in his hair forcing him back down. The worst thing was that Jack knows him better than he even himself does. He knows every dark corner of his mind, even the ones he will not speak about. And he has to see this through. Just like every other time.

“Kellin. Look at me”, Jack says, and Kellin’s eyes move from the knife to his eyes. “You know.”

He nods. He does. He does know it, but the fear is getting the best of him.

Jack moves the knife slowly in front of him and as the other hand is still holding his head in place by the hair it soon disappears from his view. The eyes fixate with his and he bites his lip so he would keep quiet. Then he already feels the cold steel on his skin and somehow he forgets how to breathe. Jack traces the knife down across his chest watching his expression carefully. The knife doesn't cut, nor scrape, it's just cold. So cold that Kellin knows his senses are heightened and that Jack was right- it will be a heavy night for him.

And the first cut does hurt. It hurts so much that no matter how hard he tries he can't stop the scream that leaves his lips. Jack answers to it with a kiss, eating the horrified screams up. He takes sharp gasps as Jack breaks the kiss soon and the blade disappears from his skin. The cut is clean and straight and will heal. But that isn't even the point. Then the blade is pushed again to his skin and he scrunches his eyes shut. It's almost like his skin is electrified, every inch tingling. It's the fourth cut he can't take anymore. His shallow breaths fan Jack's skin as he curls his fingers around his wrist.

"Really?" Jack says and it's still not a question. He _knows_ he it's not done yet. And Jack knows it too.

Jack releases his hair and leans back up. Kellin can feel the blood trickling down his skin and slowly absorbing to the sheets, but he can’t look. Not now when Jack’s eyes are so sinister and he can hardly breathe.

“Jack”, he mumbles when the other hovers over him.

“What?” the other says, but then the knife is already on his throat.

The sharp tip presses just under his jawline, to the sensitive spot below his ear. His mind goes quickly to the arteries and how much blood there would be. That he would drown to his own blood.

“What is it?” Jack repeats pushing the knife just a tad bit harder against his skin.

Kellin lets out a whiny gasp, his hand trying to find Jack’s wrist, but the other pushes it away. Closing his eyes he counts. Heartbeats, breaths, _something_. His mind is teetering on the edge of panic, even though he _knows_ he must see it through. Slowly he swallows, feeling the tip of the blade dig into his skin more then.

Jack dips down carefully licking his bottom lip before sucking it and then diving into a full kiss. Kellin knows he can’t move, he knows he shouldn’t. But he is immersed and the soft lips make him flustered.

His fingers find the sheets, pulling them, trying to find something to hold onto. He tries to keep up with all the emotions and the thoughts swimming in his head but it’s too much. It’s way too much and he is falling.

Jack breaks the kiss and moves away, giving him just enough room to breathe. Like he actually could. The knife is tossed at the table, but Kellin doesn't really even notice it.

“The way you ache…” Jack whispers and Kellin shivers.

He is so close and Jack seeing it everything makes it so much worse. Just like every other time.

Slowly Jack’s hand closes around his throat and he cries out softly.

He is barely even there anymore. The eyes pierce all the way through him while the thumb moves slightly. He coughs for air and his hands find Jack’s, clawing the skin, but Jack only squeezes harder.

“Please”, he whimpers feeling the familiar lump in his throat.

Jack’s eyes narrow slightly and he croaks for air. He wonders is it because he can't draw oxygen to his lungs, or because of those eyes but the cuts seem to pulse, like pulping out the crimson blood.

“Are you fucking begging?”

He whimpers, not able to form any words. Of course he is. And Jack knows he is.

“You are, aren’t you?” the other adds slightly some pressure, but it’s just enough for him to try to pry the hand off of his throat.

But Jack pushes the hand away and shakes his head. The hand squeezes now even harder and the wheeze that leaves his lips surprises even himself. The edges of his vision start to blacken and he can now hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

And them the hand disappears and he draws several shaky breaths. Jack is staring at him still, but he can't even look back at him.

"You are a fucking mess."

He responds with a miserable whine but then the hand is back on his throat and he yelps in surprise. His airways are blocked again and now he knows the next phase had started. In his mind he always sectioned it to phases. Somehow it made it more tolerable.

Jack's other hand reaches to his cock and he moans, only barely able to get it out. He hates himself, despises even. Squirming like that, and moaning while being jerked off and choked. Not that it would matter in any way how he _feels_.

He is falling faster and that only means the hit will be harder. Jack knows it too. The lips connect to his again while he tries to keep himself sane. The way Jack kisses him slowly, forcing him to take it all makes him so inflamed. He is trembling now and as Jack hums against his lips he knows that the other is sensing it all too.

But then Jack breaks the kiss and the thumb digs harder to his skin and he croaks. Blinking he tries to breathe but he can't even draw any oxygen to his lungs now. The airways are completely blocked and the only thing he can do is to focus to the hand stroking him and how the tears keep burning in his eyes.

And that thing inside him. It's like an avalanche. He let's out a pathetic whine and Jack tilts his head.

"What's that?"

And now he is suffocating. Not because of the hand around his throat but because of the feelings inside him. His stomach twists and he opens his mouth to a silent scream.

And there it is. The first tear Jack had been so patiently waiting. Jack stares as the shiny drop slowly rolls down Kellin's cheek and licks his lip.

But he isn't stopping. Only fastening the speed he jerks off the other. The other hand choking Kellin relaxes a little and he is able to breathe again. He gasps for air and blinks again. More tears.

"Does it hurt?"

Kellin nods. He knows perfectly well how much Jack loves the agony written all over his face. Jack wants to see it all.

"I... can't", Kellin says, his voice shaky and quiet.

"Kellin... You know", Jack sighs and the other lets out a whimper.

He really can't. It's too much and it's never ending.

Jack dips down kissing him and Kellin's fingers find the hand again around his throat. Jack isn't even squeezing anymore, the hand is just there. But it's enough. And he can't explain it. The euphoria consumes him and he climaxes while the other eats up again his moans and whimpers. For a long while it's just that. Jack's lips against his and him trying to hold on to the last remains of his sanity. The moment of clarity, the absence of the pain while everything else that replaces it consumes him, is divine. But it's just a fraction and temporary, and what comes after is what he _needs_.

Jack moves staring at him, knowing this state way too well, and wipes his hand to the sheets, knowing they will need a wash anyway because of the blood. Kellin's eyes seek him, motionlessly watching his actions.

The bliss seems to evaporate quickly, even quicker than the last time. And then it's all over and Kellin is lost. He is utterly lost and the way Jack stares at him makes his throat squeeze shut again. A hand slides gently in his hair and Kellin knows that's the only comfort he will get. So much less than he wants but enough for what he needs.

Kellin draws another panicked breath, the tears now streaming down his face. The room has suddenly grown cold and the darkness seems to swallow them. His chest is heaving, and he can't even move.

"Let me ask you again", Jack growls and pulls his hair as he doesn't even hear the first time, "Are you done?"

What can he do? He _knows_ he isn't.

"Kellin. Is it over?"

And he can't even speak. He shakes his head the best he can knowing that Jack won't ask again.

Jack releases his hair, but then the other hand is on his side and his high pitched scream bounces from the walls when it reaches the cuts. It's stings and burns, and the blood starts quickly to trickle again.

"I love how I make you bleed."

Kellin can't stop the tears. He doesn't know is it the pain or the words. As Jack doesn't mean the actual blood.

"I hate you", he whispers. He fights the urge to grab Jack's hand, acknowledging that it won't matter. It isn't over until Jack says it is.

Jack's eyes flash and he murmurs, "You already said that. Which part you hate the most? That I make you feel it all? The fear? The fucking misery? The pain that never goes away?"

"I can't..."

"Yes, but you will. There's always room for more", Jack answers and flicks the thumb deliberately slowly over the first cut.

Kellin throws his head back only able to whine in pain. And he doesn't even know anymore is the physical pain worse than the emotional.

"Do you want me to go over all of it again?"

Shaking his head Kellin chokes for air. In every way possible he is shattering and Jack is witnessing it. He knows it's inevitable. But he doesn't need to hear the words, only the reminder that they are there, is enough.

Jack grabs his jaw and Kellin can smell the blood that gets smeared on his face. He stares at him through the tears and Kellin can only stare back.

And then Jack pulls away leaving him cold and gasping. He rolls to his side and curls up, watching in disbelief as the other just stands up and grabs his shirt from the floor, pulling it on. And he knew it would happen eventually. That Jack had given him what he needed, and taken what he does.

He reaches to grab Jack's shirt but Jack slaps his hand away watching closely how his state of mind changes just that notch to worse.

The plead is about to leave his lips, but just in time he bites his lip and swallows it. Not that it would matter. Jack knows him too well.

"This is a mess I can't clean up."

And Kellin _knows_. He knows that and that Jack isn't meaning the cuts that need cleaning and dressing up, or the bed sheets that need changing. Jack means the mess his mind had once again caused and that he himself was the only one now to pull himself together.

Jack takes the knife from the table and for a second Kellin thinks it's starting all over again. That it's not over, even though Jack already said it was. That he would have to gather enough of himself to endure what was coming.

But that's not how it's supposed to go. Kellin shivers as Jack moves closer wiping the blade to the sheets. Then it already disappears in his pocket.

Jack stares at the precious tears still streaming down Kellin's face and raises his eyebrow. He _knows_ it must be done in right way. And he always did. And it's not like he would complain either. 

Kellin wants to say something but he can't find any words. He wants to think he isn't the mess he is, but he couldn't give up for the denial either. The shivers shake him down to the core as he pulls himself to a tighter ball. He closes his eyes trying to get his breathing back to steady.

"Kellin. You _know_..."

Again that word. He does. He also knows that Jack is leaving and that is what he needs. He also knows that means he is left to deal with the darkness alone.

"You don't _need_ the numbness", Jack says, his eyes burning in Kellin's skin for a few more seconds.

Kellin nods slowly. He is breathing now the fear, not wanting to _be_ because the worst was yet to come.

The door closes and he hears the footsteps in the hallway. Fingers on his throat he focuses to feel the tender skin wondering which shade of the bruises would be the most prominent this time. He stays like that, silent and still, waiting for the first wave to drown him from the inside.

\-----------

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and reviews are also appreciated.


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